


A dabble in drabbles

by Craftnarok



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon Compliant, Drabbles, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon, it's a mixed bag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 05:29:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16570547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craftnarok/pseuds/Craftnarok
Summary: Silverflint drabbles (short fics of exactly 100 words) based on prompts from silverflintdaily.tumblr.com





	1. 03/09/18:  Labour, Captive, Tradition.

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompts and other people's drabbles on silverflintdaily.](http://silverflintdaily.tumblr.com/tagged/silverflintdow)

 *~*~*

 

“Did you know he could sing?”

Madi shook her head. “He started while I was in labour and he’s barely stopped since.”

“He can’t resist a captive audience,” Flint said.

“I know, but I’m enjoying it.”

“Do you know the song? I don’t understand it.”

“No. He just said it was traditional; a lullaby.”

“Well, it seems to be working.”

They watched Silver out on the porch, a tiny, silent bundle in his arms. 

His voice low and melodic, he sang,  _“Si hei lwli lwli lws, cysga, cysga ‘mabi tlws, si hei lwli 'mabi, mae'r llong yn mynd i ffwrdd.”_

 

*~*~*

 

_(Si hei lwli lwli lws,_  [just sounds, approx.  _‘see hi loo-lee loo-lee loose’_ ]  
_sleep, sleep my sweet baby,_  
_Si hei lwli my baby,_  
_the ship is going away.)_


	2. 10/09/18:  Past, Honesty, Travel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Immortality!AU anyone?

*~*~*

 

“How’s that honesty box working out?” As the shop door thunked shut, Silver gestured to said box, where customers could pay for books on trust alone.

“Mixed,” said Flint, admirably casual considering he hadn’t heard from Silver in at least seven years.

“You realise the irony, right? An ex-pirate asking people not to steal.” Silver grinned, a gold tooth catching Flint’s eye. An interesting new addition.

“You said that last time,” said Flint, well-versed in Silver-related patience.

“Oh. Well, immortality is a long road to travel. So much past to keep track of. Things get fuzzy, y’know?”

Yes, Flint knew.

 

*~*~*


	3. 17/09/18: Red, fault, drought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're begging for a The Mummy!AU and I don't know why nobody's written it yet.

*~*~*

 

As they crested a final sand dune, the red pre-dawn sky opened wide in front of them. Silver sincerely hoped both his memory and their guide could be relied upon. If either of them were mistaken as to their exact location, the sun would rise, Hamunaptra would  _not_ materialise, and naturally it would be Silver’s fault when their dusty corpses were mummified in the eternal drought of the desert. Even in death, Flint’s face would likely retain an expression that said ‘I fucking knew it’, and Silver might just have to kill himself preemptively to save himself from seeing it. 

 

*~*~*


	4. 24/09/18: Owl, horizon, scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Set just after *that scene* in 307)

*~*~*

 

“I didn’t think he’d look more owlish without those glasses, but he did. Eyes round as saucers, and I was the last thing they saw.”

“Silver-”

“He didn’t scream. I suppose people don’t when you blindside them. That’s what did it. He didn’t think I would; didn’t think I could. But I did. And he hit the floor, looking at me like I’d become something else. A monster. You.”

_“Silver.”_  Flint touched Silver’s shoulder gently, thumb brushing the hot skin of his neck. “The tavern’s far over the horizon. It’s in the past. You’re here now. Come back to me.” 

 

*~*~*


	5. 01/10/18: Villain, water, book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-series:

*~*~*

 

“I’m writing a book about our historical associates,” Rackham said. “Immortalising the villains of Nassau.”

“Is that so?” Silver said. The other pub-goers’ chatter drowned out their conversation, but Silver felt a frisson in discussing Nassau so openly.

“Would you like a footnote?”

“You know I’d settle for nothing less than a suspicious, anonymous foreword,” Silver said. “But James wouldn’t approve.”

“Neither does Anne, but that’s not stopping me. I imagine your marital bed has weathered worse storms.” Rackham’s smile was provocative.

Silver traced his moustache delicately with his fingertips. “Smooth waters make for unskilled sailors,” he said.

“Well, quite.”

 

*~*~*


	6. 08/10/18: Story, pistol, rabbit.

*~*~*

 

“The first time I fired a pistol I was eight years old,” Flint said. “My grandfather took me hunting rabbits. There’s better ways to kill them, but that wasn’t the point.”

“What was the point?” Silver said, voice quiet, close to sleep.

“To learn how to defend myself with something more than my fists. And to have patience. I think he knew they were lessons I’d need. I think he knew a lot of things,” Flint said. “What about you? You have a story?”

Silver stayed silent, considering, then, “I was four. It took both hands. I wasn’t strong enough.”

 

*~*~*


	7. 15/10/18: Trust, energy, mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-series, post-Tell me we’re dead (if you’ve read it):

*~*~*

 

“Don’t you trust me?”

“No, of course not. What a stupid question.”

Silver had the gall to look offended. “You think I can’t sell your fish? I, who am infinitely more charming than you, can’t convince the good townsfolk of Shithole-over-Pigsty to buy the same fish they always buy? You wound me, James.”

“Jesus, fine. Go. I don’t have the energy to argue.”

Silver smirked, wringing out a cool cloth and laying it across Flint’s clammy forehead. “Get some rest,” he said.

“You’re a mother hen,” Flint grumbled. “And a thorn in my side.”

“I presume that means ‘thank you’.”

 

*~*~*


	8. 22/10/18: Pirate, grace, fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU:

*~*~*

 

“It’s a bit obvious, isn’t it?” Flint said, sounding unreasonably disappointed.

Silver shrugged. “I haven’t been a pirate for Halloween since I was ten. I’m fine with obvious. D’you think Jack’s little clique will grace us with their presence?”

“I expect so. He’d never miss an opportunity to dress up in public.”

“True.”

“What the hell is that?” Flint said, spotting the ragged, tea-stained paper on the worktop behind Silver.

“My treasure map,” Silver said defensively.

"Did you set fire to it?”

“I just singed it. For authenticity.”

“Uh-huh. I didn’t realise you were a master antique forger.”

“Fuck off.”

 

*~*~*


	9. 22/10/18: Pirate, grace, fire. x2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second drabble for this prompt.

*~*~*

 

Silver missed the colours of the south. This town was dreary; grey people, grey sky. His boat crunched ashore, and he vaulted the bow with a fluidity he knew unnerved strangers. Invalids weren’t supposed to move like spiders in the dark.

The gibbets stood on the embankment: three men - or what remained - beneath a sign which read ‘Pirates’. A shiver swept him, the ghost-touch of a previous life.

“There but for the grace of God go I,” he murmured. “What would we have done, Captain?”

That long-lost, longer-loved voice in his head whispered, ‘We would’ve rained fire down upon them’. 

 

*~*~*


	10. 29/10/18: Love, tease, haunted.

*~*~*

The bonfire light flickered over Silver’s face, painting him in deep purple shadows and warm orange light as he listened to the men’s stories with easy smiles and knowing looks. A breeze teased his hair, long and loose and tucked behind his ears. Flint was entranced. Silver looked to him like Puck guising as a man on Samhain, when the walls between worlds grew thin and spirits and forgotten gods haunted the Earth.

Silver caught his eye, and the blooming heat across Flint’s skin felt preternatural too. It was dangerous to love one of the fair folk. Yet he did. 

 

*~*~*


	11. 05/11/18: Revolution, mask, dance.

*~*~*

 

“Who’s beneath that mask?” Flint said, peering into Silver’s eyes.

“No-one,” Silver replied too quickly, before adding, “What mask?”

Flint smiled softly. “That mask. I don’t think you can be no-one. I dance the revolutionary’s dance, but every fire I’ve set was sparked by those few remarkable people whose lives crossed paths with mine. Thomas. Miranda. You. So you can’t be no-one, because you’re someone to me.”

“And of course the world revolves around you,” said Silver. “Your egomania knows no bounds.”

Flint laughed.

“Someone and no-one then,” Silver conceded. “Like occupying two points in space at the same time.”

 

*~*~*


End file.
